No Thanks, I'm No Longer Interested
by NCCJFAN
Summary: Yes, I am fed up with Woody. This is how I want to see Jordan handle him and his....issues....as we head out of season five into season six.
1. She's Back

**My only response to Sunday's episode of Crossing Jordan was "WTF?" when it came to Woody. Where are the writers' heads? In a dark and smelly place? They've taken a character I have adored and made him….well, pick a word that means a real biblical braying donkey and you have it.**

**I don't like Woody very much right now and can't write J/W romances any longer – at least until I work through this and give Jordan a say in this manner.**

**So here is Jordan's voice for the season finale and hopefully season six. My take, mostly my ideas (although some friends have contributed generously…jmkw, sherrbear, madmadambeth, and bourbon). This is how I would like it to happen, just to give Jordan a little of her own back.**

* * *

**No Thank You, I'm not Interested**

**Chapter One**

**She's Back**

"Woody?" a clipped British accent through the phone receiver caught his attention.

"Nige? How's it going? Got those ballistic reports for me in the Kerrington murder?

"No, not yet, mate. I'll probably have them this afternoon." Nigel surreptitiously looked up and down the long hallway of the morgue to make sure no one was listening to him before he finished his conversation with Woody. "But there's something else that's come up….something you should know, Woody."

"What?"

"She's back."

* * *

"_She's back."_

Two words and Woody felt his world tilt just a little more to the side…as if it were the lisp of a ship that was nearly certain to sink. A ship that had long been torpedoed by their own selfish reasons and actions, as well as their multitudes of insecurities. Woody knew they had a relationship that was predestined to crash and burn long before it had a chance to shoot for the moon and go out in a blaze of glory.

She had run – left Boston – as he expected her to. There was plenty of evidence against her in the murder, even though she swore she didn't do it. And Woody believed her. She was capable of a lot of things, but she didn't have it in her to kill anybody. But he couldn't guarantee her that he wouldn't have to arrest her, book her, and take her to jail.

She did call him before she left. Begged him to come with her. Help her. But his circumstances had changed. He couldn't leave his career, and he wouldn't leave Lu. After years of chasing their elusive relationship, dancing the dance with her, using all the steps and finesse he could, he gave up. Then Lu entered the picture. Smart. Pretty…and someone who needed him. Wanted to be with him.

Let herself be vulnerable to him and his affection.

He simply wasn't going to toss that away when he was at a place and time in his life when he craved that kind of relationship. So he had packed up his dreams and pushed away her and any thoughts he had of a future with her. When she left Boston that dark, stormy summer night, she took his old hopes and dreams for them.

Woody went on with his life without her. Made a new life with Lu.

But those two words Nigel had whispered to him over the phone…_ "She's back…"_ still had the power to destabilize his stabilized world.

The case against her had long been solved, primarily by the evidence _she_ had secretly sent him. Boxes of it. Woody didn't want to think how she came about getting it…how many laws she broke and in what states, he was just glad when it had come in…exonerating her. She had been declared innocent weeks ago.

He knew she would come back. He just hadn't known when.

But when was now.

Jordan was back.

* * *

"Morning, Nige…The ballistic reports … " Woody's voice trailed off as he rounded the corner of Nigel Townsend's office, only to see the criminalist, Dr. Macy, and Bug in a deep conversation. Catching Nigel's warning look, Woody paused at the office door, his back partially turned away from the men, only half listening to the conversation. He did need the reports.

He needed to see her more.

:"She's back and in relatively good health," Dr. Macy was saying. There was no doubt in Woody's mind who Garret was talking about. Jordan. "She is going to have to take it easy for a while, of course. Be careful with certain things. We discussed this earlier and I know you both know what to do and how to look out for her. Can I trust you to deal with the situation the way we need to?"

_What the hell?_ Woody thought. She had only been gone a couple of months. What had Jordan gotten herself into? Was she sick? Hurt?

"Sure Dr. Macy," Bug replied. "I mean, it's not like it's forever….just for a while… until she…"

"That's right," interrupted Nigel, who was more than aware that Woody was very probably eavesdropping. "No problem here. We'll do everything we're told."

"Good. Then she won't have anything to worry about and more importantly, neither will I." Garret turned and walked out the door, nearly colliding with Woody. "Detective Hoyt…"

Woody's relationship with the morgue staff had grown increasingly colder as his relationship with Lu grew increasingly warmer. Garret's formality didn't escape Woody's notice, although Woody would be one of the first to admit that one of the side effects of Garret's battle with the bottle was his nearly terminal case of grouchiness. Woody wasn't sure if the chief ME needed to get laid or drunk again, he just knew that Garret's shitty attitude rivaled his own after he had been shot. "Dr. Macy…I'm here to see Nigel. Is he free now?"

Garret simply nodded and went into his office, closing the door behind him. Woody shrugged and turned to face Nigel. "So she's back," he whispered.

Nigel nodded, but wasn't looking at the detective. He kept glancing back towards Jordan's old office.

"Is she okay?"

"Uh, yeah. Sure."

"Can I see her?"

"Uh … Woody…I don't think that would be a good idea right now. She's back, but she's tired…and readjusting. You may want to give it a day or two."

"But why?"

"Woody." Nigel's tone of voice told the detective he needed to write himself a reality check and cash it. Now. Jordan had been devastated when she found out about Woody's ultimate rejection of her and his new relationship with his old shrink.

"I just want to make sure she's okay….just see her."

There was a shuffling sound at the doorway. "Just see me….and make sure I'm okay?" Her voice, though soft, was forceful. Woody slowly turned around. "Well, here I am. Do I look like I'm okay?"

_Dear God…_

There she was standing in the doorway…looking as lovely as he ever remembered her looking…

And at least six months pregnant.


	2. Our Paths Were Bound to Cross

**Chapter Two**

**Our Paths Were Bound to Cross**

"What the hell are you going to do about it?" asked Garret.

"Well, he was going to see me sooner or later. I am still an ME and he is still a detective. We were bound to cross paths. It goes with the territory," Jordan calmly replied from the corner of the couch in Garret's office. "I just figured it would be easier to do it sooner rather than later."

Jordan carefully looked Garret over. Nigel had warned her of the chief ME's moodiness lately. How they were all walking on pins and needles around him, especially Lily. Jordan had nodded an ascent, but that was all. She was privy to the reason that Garret seemed a little more stressed out than usual – her.

She knew she was pregnant weeks before she left Boston. One skipped period didn't alarm her. Between suffering all the emotional upheaval from the break up with JD and the rash of truly stressful cases she had on her desk, one skipped period would be considered normal.

Two skipped periods made her stop and think. And make a trip to the drug store to purchase a pregnancy test. The positive sign truly flipped her world a little on its side. But then the warm feeling of impending motherhood had slowly washed over her as she ran her hand across her abdomen. Jordan Cavanaugh was pregnant.

Jordan Cavanaugh was going to be a mother.

A soft smile had formed at the edges of her mouth as she realized that _this_…this new baby bringing a new role in her life, was really what she had been missing for years.

Garret was the first person she told. For two reasons. First, he was her employer and now there were certain things she couldn't do. Heavy lifting. X-rays. Be around certain equipment. Handle certain chemicals.

And secondly, Max was still nowhere to be found. Garret had been her substitute older brother/father figure for years. Since she couldn't tell her father, Garret was the next best thing.

His response had been the same as it was a few minutes ago. "What the hell are you going to do about it?"

"Well, if you're asking if I'm keeping the baby, the answer is yes. At my age, I may not have another shot at motherhood," she had replied, her voice reflecting her surprise at the vehemence of his question. "I just thought you might want to know for personal reasons as well as business ones…I'm sorry…" She turned to leave his office.

"No, wait…Jordan." Garret beat her to the door, keeping it closed. "I'm sorry. It's just a bit of a shock…I wasn't expecting this…from you…or anyone from my staff." He ran his hand down the back of his head. "Of course, we'll take precautions with you…all the ones we need to. But I have to ask, are you seeing a doctor?"

"My first appointment is next week."

"Good…good…and how are you feeling?"

Jordan see-sawed her hand back and forth. "Good days and bad. A little nauseous here and there. And tired. More tired than usual."

"That's normal, you know," he replied softly, a grin finally turning up the corners of his lips. "Congratulations….Mom."

"Mom…that sounds…

"Weird?"

"Wonderful." She matched his smile. "Just one more thing, Gar…" He raised his eyebrows expectantly. "For right now…this is just our secret, okay? I don't want anyone else to know…not until I tell the father, anyway."

"No problem. But that brings up the next question, Jordan….who…."

Jordan shook her head. "Yes, you do know him. And no, it wasn't a one night stand. And yes, he is a nice guy."

"And who is he?"

"I'll tell you as soon as I let him know."

But then the unexpected happened. JD was murdered and all the evidence, though circumstantial, pointed to Jordan.

There was no way she was going to go to jail for something she didn't do. And there was absolutely no way in hell she was going to be pregnant in prison, let alone deliver her baby there.

So she had done the only thing she knew to do…even though every fiber in her being now fought against it. She had grown. She had matured. But it was her only option.

She ran. She had made that one last fleeting phone call to Woody, and had her bags in her hand when there was a knock at the door.

Holding her breath and praying it wasn't the Boston PD, she tentatively opened it.

It was Garret. With a fistful of hundreds. He kissed her on the forehead, pressed the key to a car in her hand, and told her to get the hell out of Boston and leave the rest up to him. Go. Take care of herself and her baby.

For once, he didn't have to tell her twice.

Maryland. Ohio. Then the backwoods of Kentucky. She followed the trail of clues and highways until she had shipped enough evidence back home to exonerate herself. Woody had called her when she was finally removed as a suspect.

"When will you be back in Boston?" he asked. His voice was quiet and professional.

"I don't know," she had answered honestly. At that point morning sickness and fatigue had been taking turns wearing her out.

"Soon?" Had that been a hopeful note in his voice?

"I said I don't know."

And she hadn't been sure at the time. Her first priority was the baby. Her baby.

Hers and JD's.

"So what are you going to do about him?" Garret's voice broke into her thoughts.

"What's there to do anything about? Woody and I were over before I ever left Boston. He didn't want to rush things…he wanted to take things slow." Jordan stood up from Garret's couch and made her way to the door. "And his idea of taking things slow was getting into bed with Lu Simmons." She smirked wryly at her boss. "So far be it from me to screw up that relationship with anything. Woody's a cop, I'm a ME. Like I said, our paths are bound to cross."

"So things are mostly just professional between you two now."

"Things are _only_ professional between us now," Jordan replied, the emotional pain the detective had put her through playing across her face again. "Personally, I hope I never have to see the son of a bitch outside of work ever again."


	3. So Far, Mostly Good

**Chapter Three**

**So Far, Mostly Good**

Their paths did cross. Several times. Jordan kept telling herself that it all made perfect sense and she couldn't and wouldn't let her professionalism be overrun by any leftover, lingering emotions she felt for Woody Hoyt.

Discounting anger, of course.

Yes, she was angry at Woody. Beyond even furious. This was the type of anger that scared even Jordan Cavanaugh. It was a cold, spiteful feeling that yet burned so blistering in her that almost any sight of him caused the white-hot flame of near hatred to flare up in her.

She tried to rationalize it away. Woody didn't murder JD and try to pin it on her. Woody actually worked very hard to present the evidence to the DA so Jordan would be removed as a suspect in the crime.

It wasn't even because of Lu, although Jordan would admit she did have issues with the woman. Admitting to herself that she loved Woody had been a huge step for Jordan. Telling Woody about her feelings was an even bigger one. Showing them to him …allowing herself to be so vulnerable to him that one night at the Lucy Carver Inn and then seeing him shove those feelings back at her in the most hurtful way – that had been hard to swallow.

Especially when the shove away from her landed him in the bed of Lu Simmons.

But even that wasn't the real reason Jordan now had such scorching fury for Woody.

No. It was the fact that he _played_ her. Stirred her emotions up for him to the boiling point and then pulled that emotional rug out from under her, allowing her to land on her ass without having the decency to hang around and help her up.

The entire time she had dated JD, tried her damnedest to make that relationship work, Woody had hovered in the background. First he played the angry martyr, allowing the stress from his back injury to dominate his bad behavior.

Then he had the gall to play the jealous boyfriend, coming between her and JD at every opportunity that arose. She had been smart enough to realize this, but then he began to make her doubt her feelings for JD. And when the chance to make love to her reared its head at the inn, he helped that doubt turn to denial and she ended up in his arms all night and spooned against him the next morning.

Jordan had hoped that finally they had put a name to the dance they had been doing for four years. Unfortunately, she had been so wrong. After she had talked to JD, after she had hurt a man who sincerely cared for her to the point he was willing to overlook her patent infidelity with Woody, the detective backed off. "I don't want to be your rebound guy," he had said.

Later Jordan realized she should have translated that into "Screwed you, didn't I?" For he had. In more ways that one. JD had left to go Washington to work on a story there. And the relationship she hoped to have with Woody melted away like the winter's snow when the warm spring sun made its appearance. Woody was bedding Lu. JD was becoming a highly successful Washington writer.

And she was left high and dry.

But mostly alone.

Woody had played her. Took the feelings she had for him…feelings that she had nurtured for so long and stepped all over them without a care in the world.

That was why she was so angry with him.

But what was making it worse was that Woody wasn't getting the picture. He assumed that once he had her safely back in Boston, they would at least go back to being friends again.

That wasn't happening. Jordan could hardly bear to be in the same room with him. Garret was chalking her reaction up to pregnancy hormones and was at least cutting her enough slack that if he knew Woody was the answering detective on a homicide, he wouldn't allow her to take the call.

Those actions were a big help. At least ninety percent of the time she could operate in relative peace without his blue eyes staring holes through her.

But the remaining ten percent was proving to be a bitch.

* * *

"Are you about through there, Jordan?" Woody asked, as she bent over the body that was found in the men's bathroom at Logan Airport.

"Nearly. Just a few more minutes and I can tell the guys to load him up and take him to the morgue," she replied, never looking up at him, only having eyes for the body and any information she could pick up from her cursory examination of the poor man.

"You know the FAA is going to want a complete work up on him?"

"That is generally what's required in situations like this, Detective." Her voice carried the "how-stupid-do-you-think-I-am" tone.

"I know…I just…I mean….that's a lot of work. Are you sure you can handle it?" Woody eyed her expanding belly warily.

"I'm pregnant, Woody. They didn't remove my brain when they ran the pregnancy test." _Idiot…._

"I…I…know that, too. It's just that…I mean…should you be working so hard now?"

Jordan stood and pulled off her latex gloves. "For your information, not that it's any of your concern, the doctor has said I can work right up until time for me to deliver."

Woody swallowed nervously. Things had not gone as he had planned or hoped for since Jordan had returned to Boston.

Of course, he had never expected her to return…well, _expecting_.

Now it seemed that nothing he said was right…nothing he did was right. And he had hoped to get their relationship back on some kind of even keel.

Instead the ship kept lisping starboard.

Sighing, he asked the question that had been circling around in his brain for weeks – really ever since she had returned. "Ummm…the baby….when is it due, Jo?"

Jordan bent down and picked up her bag, avoiding his gesture to take it from her. "October 28."

"Ah…well…."

"You can breathe, Farm Boy. The baby's not yours."

* * *

Jordan sighed as she hung up the phone. Twenty-four hours after she had picked the body up from Logan Airport, the autopsy was complete and she had the preliminaries for Woody: Massive heart attack. No foul play, just bad genetics and poor eating habits. Ruefully she hung up the phone and stood and stretched. At six months along, she wasn't as big as a lot of other women she had seen, but she was all baby. And the baby kept making itself known – kicking through the night, heartburn, bladder control issues.

It was to be expected. She was due to see her doctor in Boston again next week. While she was on the run, she would visit little out-of-the-way walk in clinics to have her hemoglobin checked and be weighed. She religiously recorded the figures in a small notebook she kept with her. Jordan rationalized she was a doctor. If anything was wrong, she should be able to tell it.

So far, so good. Normal pregnancy, normal movement…completely, wonderfully, boringly, blissfully normal.

And everyone in the morgue was being so supportive and understanding. Bug and Nigel stepped in to do what she couldn't anytime she needed them. Garret was protective and concerned. Lily was, well…Lily…a bundle of nurturing love and care. As a matter of fact, there was only one thing missing.

Her father.

Jordan longed to reconnect with Max at this time. She had tried the number he had given her before he left Boston, but he was no longer there. Patiently she had called every one of his old friends, former officers, and previous customers and vendors from the Pogue. It had taken her a week, but she finally hit pay dirt. She got a number, called, and left a message.

But that was three days ago and still nothing. Sighing again, she got up to retrieve her pocketbook and keys. It was already after five and she wanted to go home and put her feet up. Jordan had one hand on the doorknob when Lily buzzed her office. "Jordan?"

"Yeah, Lily? I was just about to leave…."

"Line two's for you."

"But I'm off duty now…"

"It's Max, Jordan. Line two."


	4. Malaria and Homecomings

**Chapter Four**

**Malaria and Homecomings**

Jordan nervously adjusted the paper gown she was wearing while she was sitting in the exam room, waiting for her obstetrician. One part of her hated these exams…sitting there, all bare except for the thin, paper gown covering her expanding body. The corners of her mouth turned up in a wry smile at the changes she was going through. First she was hot…all the time. And not just a gee-it's-a-hot-summer-even-for-Boston hot. Some days it felt like she was combusting from the inside out.

Then there was her growing belly. She had read everything she could get her hands on about being pregnant, although the doctor in her already knew plenty. The girth was a good indicator that the baby was gaining weight, there was plenty of amniotic fluid, and everything was normal.

The woman in her just wanted to know how to avoid stretch marks. So lotions, cocoa butter, even olive oil had anointed her waistline for months. So far, so good. The only amazingly great thing, besides the baby, that had happened, was that the boob fairy came. She now had a bust line that was eye catching.

"Good morning, Jordan," Dr. Andrews's voice announced his arrival before he made it completely through the door. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine. Really fine…"

Dr. Andrews looked over her chart carefully. "Weight's good….blood pressure's good…genetic testing came back good. Everything looks great. Ready to see the baby?"

Jordan nodded and patiently waited while Dr. Andrews and his nurse, Connie, got everything ready. One cold dab of the jelly-like substance on her tummy and Dr. Andrews soon had a picture of the baby on the screen. Jordan watched in near amazement as her baby's image filled the monitor, wishing that somehow, someway, despite their differences and their break up, JD could be here to see their child. Something close to regret and akin to sorrow filled her eyes.

JD would never know their child. He had never even known she was pregnant. They both knew that there was that possibility, especially after he had returned to Boston once more.

No one had known he had even been back. He just showed up at her door one night, about six weeks after the Lucy Carver debacle with Woody. There had been a knock at her door late one Friday night. A glimpse through the peep hole nearly knocked her for a loop. She had assumed most likely it was Nigel. On the outside chance, perhaps Lily. Way out in left field was the idea that maybe it was a contrite and penitent Woody.

She had assumed that JD had washed his Aussie hands of her once and for all.

But you know what happens when you assume.

He had walked to the center of her apartment after she wordlessly opened the door for him. Standing there in the middle of her living room, with his hands stuffed deep into his coat pockets, he simply said, "I miss you, Cavanaugh."

"You do?" She knew her voice was incredulous.

"Yeah, I do." He walked over to her and gently tucked a curl behind her ear. "I do. I really do. You remember what I told you about love?"

"That it was like malaria?" she whispered.

JD nodded. "It is, you know. There's not really a cure, and it remains just below the skin….and just keeps re-surfacing." He swallowed hard. "But with you, it's Hoyt."

"Not any…"

"And with me it's you." He had pulled her to him then and kissed her hard. "Damn you, Cavanaugh. Damn you…" he whispered through her hair. "damn you, damn you, damn you." His lips moved over her face then.

"JD…please…"

Pulling away, he looked deep into her eyes. "One more night, Jordan. Just one more. Then tomorrow I'll turn around and walk out of this apartment and out of your life. You'll never see or hear from me again, unless you want to. I promise. Just…one more night."

He had never called her Jordan unless he was completely, utterly serious.

And every time he did, he completely undid her resolve. That night had been no exception.

Besides, what did she have to lose? Woody was happy and content with his new girlfriend and Jordan was all alone. "Yes," she heard herself whisper back. Why not? She needed the comfort of a warm touch from someone that loved her.

And if nothing else, JD Pollack _did_ love her.

"Wait…there's something not quite right…" Dr. Andrews's voice said, breaking through her thoughts.

* * *

"Dr. Cavanaugh…Dr. C…." Emmy's voice trailed after Jordan as she got off the elevator two weeks after her last doctor's appointment with Dr. Andrews. _God, she moves fast for a pregnant woman,_ Emmy thought as she hustled down the hallway after Jordan.

"What do you want, Emmy?" Jordan responded, a little sharply. She hadn't slept well since her last doctor's appointment as thousands of unanswered questions and scenarios played through her mind. Most everyone else was chalking her new, surly behavior to third trimester pregnancy, rollercoaster hormones, and exhaustion.

Only she knew she was saddled with a new worry.

"This came for you by special delivery. I signed for it for you since you weren't in." Emmy handed her a long envelope. "It's from Dr. Andrews," she continued cheerfully.

"Thanks, Em…sorry about snapping at you. It's just been a rough morning."

"No problem, Dr. C." With the blessed ignorance of the unknowing, Emmy walked back to her desk.

Jordan took the envelope in one hand and opened the door to her office with the other. Then shutting and locking it behind her, she sank into her chair and laid the envelope on top of her desk, staring at it for a long time. Dr. Andrews had run tests…and in the envelope were the results of those tests…tests that could determine her baby's future. She swallowed hard.

She had asked that the results be mailed to her instead of her being phoned with them. If they came in the mail, she always had the option of not opening the envelope and reading the results until she felt she was ready.

If she ever was.

So she had a choice. She could open them up now and know her baby's future.

Or she could wait. She took a deep breath and picked up the envelope, holding it gingerly…as if it were a snake that might bite her.

Then shoved it into the bottom of her pocketbook.

She wasn't ready.

* * *

Her nerves were on edge and her hormones were on overdrive. And it wasn't helping that he was late.

Max had finally called her. She had haltingly spilled out most of her story to him before she revealed to her father that he was going to be a _grandfather_ in the short span of a few weeks.

There had been dead silence on the line for a few seconds…long enough for Jordan to wonder if they had lost a connection.

"Are you okay?" he had finally asked, his Irish brogue as thick as ever.

"I'm fine…now, anyways. I'm not on the run any longer and I'm back home."

"So I'm going to be a grandfather, eh?" Jordan could hear the laughter behind her father's voice. "Never believed the day would come when my only daughter would see fit to bless me with heirs."

"Dad…"

"So do you know if it's a boy or a girl?"

"No. I don't want to know."

"A boy would be nice. He'd have to be easier to raise than you were…"

"Dad!"

Max chuckled. "Just kidding. So everything's fine?"

"It would be better if I could get you to come home for a little while."

"Me?"

"Yeah, you, _Paw-paw_. Don't you think your grandchild will want to know you?"

Max had sighed. "I would love to come home for this – the birth of my granddaughter or grandson. But if I do…no talk of the past…your mother's murder…none of that…"

"I promise."

"I mean it, Jordan. You need to concentrate on you….and your baby. Your mother would want it that way."

"I know. And I promise."

That promise was all it took to get Max back to Boston. At least for a little while. Jordan was waiting for him at what used to be The Pogue. Only Max was a half an hour late and Jordan was left wondering if her dad had gotten cold feet after all.

And then his huge form appeared at her side. "God….let me look at you." Max swept Jordan up in a hug before setting her from him, slowly examining her from head to toe. "Good. You look good."

"For a pregnant woman?" she asked, slipping back into her side of the booth.

"For my daughter." He sat down opposite of her.

Max ordered a beer and Jordan ordered orange juice. Between the two drinks and an order of cheese fries later, she had told her father everything. Max leaned forward and took both of her hands in his. "But you're okay?" he finally asked, fatherly concern lacing his voice.

Jordan nodded. "It's just been rough."

"I know. Thank God Woody was on your side."

She smirked. "He wouldn't have been if I hadn't of shipped him all the evidence."

"Then thank God JD kept meticulous records."

"Yeah." Her voice trailed off as her eyes held a haunted look.

Max noticed…whoever this JD Pollack was, he had been special to his daughter….but maybe not as special as that blue-eyed, Wisconsin cheese head she had spent years avoiding her feelings for.

Max wondered if those feelings had ever fully disappeared. He watched his only daughter as she idly stirred her orange juice with a straw, her eyes miles away from where they were sitting and felt his heart break for Jordan one more time. "You're sure there's no chance that this baby's not Woody's?" he gently asked. For all his gruffness, Max believed that love really did conquer all and that somewhere in all this madness, Jordan and Woody still cared for each other. It might be hidden under piles of hurt and miles of regret, but he held on to that hope.

"No." That one syllable was said with such force and certainly that Max knew Woody wasn't the father of his grandchild – and whatever place the detective once had in Jordan's heart was now gone.


	5. Tunnel Trouble

**Chapter Five**

**Tunnel Trouble**

"I don't like you working with her." Lu's voice interrupted his thoughts as Woody was tying his tie, looking at his reflection in the dresser mirror of her bedroom.

"I'm sorry, but I don't have a choice," Woody answered, eyeing her in the mirror. Lu was still stretched out in bed, as she had the day off. "I mean, I'm a homicide detective and she's a ME. It's gonna happen, Lu."

"I still don't like it." Lu arched her back and stretched, making the sheet fall to her naked waist. Woody turned and gave her an appreciative look.

"You don't have anything to worry about," he said, coming over to the bed and sitting beside her, catching her lips in a quick kiss. "I mean I'm here with you and Jordan's nowhere in the picture."

"She's pregnant."

"But it's not mine." Lu gave him a baleful look. "It's not. She told me so herself," Woody answered

"And she's sure."

"Very. I even offered to give Nigel DNA so that we could be positive. But she said it wasn't necessary. And it's not. If Jordan had gotten pregnant at the Lucy Carver Inn, she would already be close to delivering. It's September 15, sweetie. And she's not due until October 28." Woody gently pulled the sheet back over Lu. "So stop worrying your pretty, little head over a problem that doesn't exist."

"But you still have to work with her."

"And so do you." Woody gave her one more quick kiss and stood to leave, grabbing his jacket off the foot of the bed. "We all have to be professional here, Lu. Me. You. Jordan. And Jordan has been…maybe borderline civil, but always professional. But I imagine being seven or eight months pregnant can keep you a little irritated."

Lu nodded. "But shouldn't she be going on maternity leave soon?"

Woody shrugged, one hand on the door knob to let himself out. "According to Jordan, the doctor has said she can work right up until her time to deliver. Have a good day, sweetheart….maybe we can do Morelli's tonight for dinner." Woody shut the door behind him as he left.

"Up until the time she delivers….leave it to Jordan Cavanaugh to think she's Wonder Woman," Lu muttered, pulling the pillow over top of her head.

* * *

"Jor…." Woody called after Jordan's retreating figure. It never ceased to amaze him how quickly she could still move even though she was all baby now.

And usually all it took was one look at him or one word out of his mouth to send her speeding off the other way. And today was no exception. As soon as he stepped off the morgue elevators and called the first syllable of her name, she was gone. "Jordan!" he called a little louder and with more force. "Stop….for a minute, please, just stop."

She halted and slowly turned around. "What do you need, Woody?"

"You."

She raised an eyebrow. "I don't think Lu would appreciate that." Her voice just slightly dripped with sarcasm.

"Not that way. Besides pregnant women just don't do a thing for me," he added, finally reaching her side.

"Your loss." Jordan eyed him warily. "So why do you need me?"

"There's a body on the north side I've got a call on. And since you're the answering ME…"

"You need me to go with you."

"Yeah. I thought we could ride together…on the way we could discuss that case we've both got to testify on next week."

"The Sorenson case?"

"Yeah." He rocked back on his heels. Ever since he had told Jordan that he didn't want to be her rebound guy and fell into Lu's bed, he had felt slightly off balance around her…disconcerted, disjointed…._uncomfortable_. He wasn't sure why…they both had obviously gotten on with their lives. He was in a steady relationship with Lu and Jordan was pregnant with…with…somebody's child. She had never told him who, just that he wasn't the father.

Maybe that was the most disconcerting thing of all. "I'll drive," he added.

"Deal. Just let me get my bag."

* * *

The traffic was heavier than normal as they headed out to the crime scene. Woody was sure Seely was already there by now. He got in the driver's side and helped Jordan slide the seat back further on the passenger side to accommodate her belly. After a little shuffling and huffing, she made herself comfortable.

"I bet you're really uncomfortable now," Woody commented as they pulled out onto to the freeway.

"Yeah," Jordan wiped the sweat off her forehead with her fingertips. "The heat's a bitch to deal with and then there's this…" she motioned to her abdomen. "The baby kicks all night and uses my bladder as a punching bag." She leaned back in the seat. "In a way, I'll be glad when all of this is over."

"I'm sure." This was the most Jordan had ever talked to him about her pregnancy. Of course, this was the most time they had had alone in months "Maybe next time you'll be more careful…" Woody meant it as a tease…a joking comment. He hoped to keep the easy banter going between them.

Woody had yet to learn you don't tease a pregnant woman. Not that way. "What do you mean by that?" Jordan snapped at him.

"Mean? I meant….nothing by it, Jor. I was just joking…"

"Then the joke is not funny. Do you think I deliberately went out of my way to get myself knocked up?"

"No…no…" Woody felt the ease of the moment evaporate under her sharp words and temper. "I don't think that…not at all." Beads of perspiration began to break out on his forehead. "Look…let's just drop the subject. I didn't mean anything by it…and I certainly didn't mean to hurt your feelings. I was just trying to make a joke…get things back to normal with us…"

Jordan snorted. "Don't you think too much has happened for that?"

"Old lovers can be good friends," Woody retorted, never taking his eyes off the road. The traffic had really gotten heavy and driving was taking his full attention.

"Old lovers? Don't you mean more like one night stands?" The sarcasm was back in full force.

"So that's what's got your goat? You think that what we had was just a one night stand?"

"I don't think. I know. One night and then 'I don't want to be your rebound guy, Jordan'. What the hell else was I supposed to believe?"

"I don't know…Damn it…" Woody swore. They had headed into the Ted Williams Tunnel and the traffic had ground to a halt. Grabbing his Nextel, he radioed Seely. "Do you know what's going on in the tunnel?" he nearly barked.

"Three car pile up in the middle. They're trying to clear it out, but it just happened. It's going to take a while. The good news is there are no fatalities," Matt cheerfully responded.

"So there's bad news?" Woody cautiously asked.

"The bad news is it's gonna take at least a couple of hours to clear it."

Woody stifled a groan, especially after getting a glimpse of Jordan's face. She was as delighted as he was over the prospect of being stuck in the TWT for hours with each other for company.

Woody did groan when he knew he'd have to call Lu and let her know Morelli's was out of the question tonight…and why. The blonde would hit the roof and take him with her.

"I've got you covered here. Why don't you see if you and Jordan can just turn around and head back to the morgue and wait for me there?" Seely continued.

"Will do," Woody responded, but a quick glance in the rearview mirror told the detective that was out of the question. Traffic was backed up as far as his eyes could see. "Guess we're stuck for a little while," he said, turning to Jordan, giving her the best boy scout grin he could muster under the circumstances.

"Lovely," she murmured. "For how long?"

"Seely said it just happened. And it's in the middle of the tunnel. Three vehicles are involved," he recited in his best policeman's voice. "It's gonna be a while."

"It can't be." Her voice held a note of resolution.

"Sorry, Jordan. Sometimes things just happen. But it's usually for a reason. Maybe this happened to let us have time to talk things out between us…you know we haven't really…"

"No." She broke in. "I've got to get out of here…" Woody began to hear the panic in her voice.

"Jordan, it's going to be alright. I promise. We'll be out in just a little while," he soothed as he remembered she was slightly claustrophobic.

"No…you don't understand, I have to get out now. Now, Woody. Now."

"Jordan…." He was beginning to get annoyed with her attitude, pregnant or not. "Listen to me…"

"No….you listen to me, Farm Boy. I have to get out. My water just broke."


	6. Special Delivery

**Chapter Six**

**Special Delivery**

For a moment Woody looked completed horrified…and then that expression melted into pure terror. "No," he managed to whisper. But the darkening upholstery fabric under Jordan testified to the truth of her statement. Her water had broken. "What do we do now?"

"_We_ don't do anything. _I_ have the baby," Jordan retorted, trying to stifle a groan against the sharp pains that were cutting across her abdomen now, not to mention the intense pressure that was now building in the same area. "I…oh…" Her brow furrowed in pain.

"No. Jordan. You cannot have this baby in my car. Not now. Hell, we're stuck in a tunnel…"

"It's not like I have a lot of choice in this, Woody. I didn't plan it this way. If I had known my water was going to break, I would have kept my happy ass back at the morgue, believe me."

"Paramedics. I'll call the paramedics…"

Jordan vaguely heard him as he placed the 911 call and told them to hurry. Then there was a flood of creative swearing when the emergency operator told Woody it would be a while before they could get to Jordan due to the accident. "But don't worry…if it's her first baby, it's going to be a while detective. You've had all the first aid classes, right?" the operator asked.

"Right."

"Then just hold her hand through the contractions and help her breathe," the operator continued. "And I'll be right here if you need me. By the time she's ready to give birth, you'll be out of the tunnel and she'll be on the way to the hospital."

"Good." Woody cast a quick glance over at Jordan, who was leaning back in her seat, fighting the pain against another contraction. "You okay?"

"Does it look like I'm okay?" she snapped back, pinning him against his side of the car with her hard glare.

"Sorry….Did you hear the emergency operator? By the time you're ready to give birth, you'll be out of here."

"Yeah, sure," Jordan puffed through the next contraction. "Back seat," she managed to bite out.

"Back seat?"

"Yeah, back seat. I want to have my wicked ways with you, Hoyt," she retorted. "No… I'll be more comfortable in the back seat."

"Can you move?" Woody asked, his concern growing with each passing moment. Jordan was in more pain than he had ever seen her deal with and the contractions were growing stronger by the minute.

"I think so. I may need a little help." She pushed open the door.

"Hang on. Don't set a foot outside this car until I'm with you."

Jordan nodded breathlessly and waiting until Woody came over to the passenger side. Gingerly he helped her to her feet and opened the back door. Then another contraction nearly bent her double. "Oh God," she ground out. "This hurts."

"I know…" Woody murmured, hoping to comfort her in some small way. He guided her into the back seat and helped her recline. "How close are they…the contractions?"

"Less than three minutes."

Woody laced her fingers through his. "It's not going to wait, is it? The baby?"

Jordan slowly shook her head. "No. I already feel I have to push."

Woody nodded. "Then we'd better get ready," he said slowly, his eyes not leaving hers for a long moment. Finally he slid his fingers from around hers and went to the trunk of his car, pulling out a blanket and a medical kit. He had to go through CPR and first aid training every year. Now was a hell of a time to see if he actually remembered something more than just how to clean a cut, but at least the 911 operator had volunteered to talk him through anything else. And Jordan was a doctor. "Okay," he breathed. "Let's slide this under you and take it a minute at the time."

"I'm sorry, Woody. I didn't mean for this to happen." Jordan felt tears come to her eyes as she lifted her hips for him to place the blanket beneath her. "I really didn't. I had no idea…my due date's not for another six weeks."

"I know…I know. It's okay. We've been in some tight places before with each other, what's one more? I just didn't ever think I'd be delivering your baby…" He teased her with a dimpled grin.

"I'm sorry," she managed to say one more time before another contraction and another gush of amniotic fluid brought her back to the task at hand. "Woody…" her hand sought his one more time. "I have to push…"

"Hold up one minute." Woody gently eased her elastic-waist maternity pants down and then flipped one side of the blanket up to partially over her. "Okay…"

The intense pressure was the only thing on Jordan's mind for seemingly endless minutes after that. Pressure and worry. Was the baby going to be alright? Was it really too early? Did it really have to hurt that much? Jordan made a fleeting promise to the powers that be to never, ever have sex again and remain chaste until the end of her days. She'd give the nuns at St. Inez a run for their money and their chastity belts.

"Hold up," Woody's voice broke through her haze of misery. "The head….the head's almost out…the operator says I need to get one shoulder out and then the other…don't push anymore…."

"Don't push? Are you out of your ever-loving mind?" Jordan hissed.

"You're doing a great job, Jor. Just hang on…." One shoulder followed the other and the baby slipped easily into Woody's hands. With the 911 operator giving him directions, he quickly cleared the infant's air passage and the cry of the baby could be heard mingling with the sounds of ambulance sirens in the distance.

"Is it…he okay?" Jordan asked softly, looking at Woody anxiously.

"_She_…is _she_ okay," he corrected. "And she is. She's beautiful, Jordan," he replied, equally softly, before gently placing the baby girl in Jordan's arms.

"A daughter…I have a daughter…" Jordan cradled the tiny infant against her for a moment before she did the "mommy thing" – counting all the fingers and all the toes.

"You do. And a very beautiful one at that. She looks just like her mother." Woody softly stroked the baby's dark chestnut hair with one hand while the other arm was around Jordan, helping her to sit up as they waited on the approaching paramedics. "You did good, Jo. Real good."

"Thanks." She glanced up at him. "And thank you…for everything…you were more than wonderful, Woody."

It happened then, as if always did when they were by themselves in a precarious situation…that tenor of unspoken tension and loyalty that they always had to each other reverberated through them. It was a silent promise they had made to each other so long ago to always be there for each other, no matter what, no matter when, or no matter where. Jordan felt it. And by the look on Woody's face, despite his current attachment to Detective Simmons, he felt it, too.

"You're welcome. It's not everyday I get to deliver a baby…especially the baby of my ex-best friend." He smiled at her, but the smile didn't reach his eyes.

Jordan swallowed hard. "Yeah…"

The sirens came to a sudden stop. "Ma'am?" One of the paramedics poked his head through the open back car door. "Are you doing okay?"

"For a woman that's just delivered a baby, I'd say she's doing remarkably well," Woody replied, easing out from the back seat to let the EMTs take over. It only took a matter of seconds for them to slide Jordan out of the car, load her and the baby onto a gurney, and whisk both of them away to Boston General.

Leaving Woody with but the statement he had made to Lu this morning circling around in his mind …_ If Jordan had gotten pregnant at the Lucy Carver Inn, she would already be close to delivering. It's September 15, sweetie. And she's not due until October 28._

The baby looked full term. That doesn't mean she was, but Woody knew the baby was a healthy weight and had no trouble breathing. He ran a hand down his tired face. What if…he glanced around the car. There was nothing left to answer his question but a slightly bloody blanket and a dark, wet stain on the front seat of his vehicle. He climbed in the driver's seat and put the vehicle in drive, radioing into Seely that he was taking the rest of the afternoon off and why.

"You did what?" was Matt's incredulous reply.

"I delivered Jordan's baby," he said matter of factly, pulling his already loose tie the rest of the way off. "Could you call the morgue and tell them? They'll want to know. Especially Macy."

"Sure…you going home to rest?"

"No," Woody replied, shaking his head even though he knew Seely couldn't see him. "I'm going to the hospital…." He had one burning question left and there was only one person that could answer it. And as soon as the doctors had checked her and the baby out, Jordan would tell him once and for all if the tiny girl he delivered in the back seat of his squad car was his…or someone else's.


	7. It’s a Match

**Chapter Seven**

**It's a Match**

Sighing wearily, Jordan pulled the hospital sheets up closer around her and adjusted "Baby Girl Cavanaugh" a little better at her breast. Her daughter had already eaten twice since they made it to the hospital by ambulance. One last time tonight and the nurses were going to take her back to the neo-natal unit so Jordan could get some rest.

A mother. At last, it had happened. She had delivered a perfectly healthy, six pound, seven ounce baby girl. "Let's see little one," she softly murmured, gently stroking her daughter's head as the baby nursed. "I think Emily is out. I want you to have your own identity and that name comes with too many memories…and not all of them are good. Dad would love Maxine," Jordan chuckled at the feminine derivative of her father's name, "but Mom's afraid you'd get beat up on the play ground with that one…"

Softy crooning snatches of half-forgotten lullabies, Jordan continued to stroke her daughter's hair and admire her new off spring. Dark chestnut curls…blue eyes. But most babies' eyes are blue and change later. Max had said the infant was the identical infant of her mother at that age and much to Jordan's chagrin, he had pulled out pictures to prove it.

But he was right. "Baby Girl Cavanaugh" looked just like her mom.

"I'm not naming you after me, though," Jordan added as an afterthought. "No way." She held the tiny infant to her shoulder to burp her. "Hannah? Crista? No….way too common names." Jordan held her daughter out so she could look at her from the top of her tiny head to the ten tiny toes. "You're a little package. But good things come in small packages, you know?" Jordan wrinkled her forehead. "I can't think right now. I'm too tired." She put her daughter back on her shoulder and patted the tiny back, waiting for the burp that would let Mom know it was okay to call the nurse had have "Baby Girl Cavanaugh" taken back to the nursery.

It came, and Jordan pushed the call button. Soon the baby was whisked away and Jordan settled back down in her bed, more tired that she had ever been in her life. The last person she expected to see her deliver the baby was Woody Hoyt. Of course, the last place she expected to deliver was in the back of his squad car. She grimaced at the memory.

And if that wasn't enough, he was among the crowd that assembled at the hospital waiting for a glimpse of her and her daughter. He easily mingled with the morgue crowd and her father, now that the EMTs had hailed him as a hero for delivering the baby without a hitch.

Woody had wanted to come and make sure everything was okay. She knew he would. But Jordan could still read Woody well enough to realize what question was circling around in his head. Thankfully with the crowd at the hospital tonight, he never got a chance to ask.

And she never volunteered the information, simply because she didn't know herself. From the moment Dr. Andrews had said there was something wrong during her sonogram, Jordan had felt her chest tighten in a vise-like grip. "The baby's too big to be due on October 28, Jordan. The head…" he had motioned to the monitor that measured the top of the baby's head in centimeters, "is far too big for you to only be six months along. Are you sure about the first day of your last period?" he asked.

"I…I…think so," she had managed to get out. Between JD's murder, being on the run, and the stress she had been under, she couldn't be one hundred percent sure. She had never been regular to begin with.

Dr. Andrews shook his head. "This tells me that your probable due date is somewhere between September 10th and 17th…not October 28th."

_Shit. That means…_Jordan bit her lip. "Is there anyway you can find out for sure?"

"I can run some tests to determine the conception date and see if that corresponds with the new projected due date. So either your farther along than you think you are or you're having a really big baby." Dr. Andrews gave her a wink.

_JD is…was a big guy…maybe he was a big baby…_

_Or it could mean the baby is Woody's…_

Her mind immediately fled from that thought. She wanted the baby's father to be JD…someone that loved her and didn't use her. A man she firmly believed, if he were still alive, would be at her side right now.

She didn't want the baby's father to be some cold, two-timing, hurtful Wisconsin cheese head.

So Dr. Andrews had run the tests… and it was those tests that Emmy had run Jordan down to give her that day in the morgue. The same set of tests she had crammed into the bottom of her pocketbook because she wasn't ready to know who could be the father of her baby. At that point in time, she would have been more ready to accept a second immaculate conception.

Only now she needed to know. Jordan reached for her pocketbook sitting in the chair beside her hospital bed, pawing through the contents until she brought out a rumpled, wrinkled envelope from the bottom. Taking a deep breath, she ripped it open and glanced at the test results, quickly noting the three conception dates given and comparing it with the calendar she had burned in her memory.

The paper fluttered to the floor. Her nerveless fingers couldn't hold it any longer. But the dates didn't lie.

The father could be either JD or Woody. She'd have to run DNA tests to be sure.

* * *

Jordan came home form the hospital two days later…home to what once was an empty apartment, but now looked like a branch store for Babies R Us. Lily, Max, and Garret had left no stone unturned and no layette purchase unmade in their quest to make sure her tiny home was baby-ready. Jordan appreciated their thoughtfulness, but in some ways, her apartment had never felt lonelier. While the baby kept her busy, she was keenly aware of the fact that the _father _was not there…and may not ever be.

She had never regretted giving JD a key to her apartment. Even with all her conflicted emotions about Woody and working through all of that. JD had loved her and showed her that in hundreds of ways.

Of course, he had always let it be known he didn't care for Woody Hoyt, either. Jordan smiled when she remembered the testosterone face offs the two had endured, often with her sandwiched in the middle.

JD had had free reign of her apartment, and very nearly lived there until their break up…a break up that had been her fault, but at the time she hadn't fully realized. All she knew was that she and Woody had made love…and the relationship that she had long-denied to herself existed had blossomed into what she hoped was a full-blown affair at the Lucy Carver Inn. But once they were back in Boston, reality crashed in and Jordan had recognized it for what it was. Woody had chased her. Caught her.

And now he was no longer interested.

After four years, all it had amounted to was a one night stand.

But JD still was still interested. To the point he was willing overlook her patent infidelity and move on with her. However, Jordan wasn't budging at the time. JD had returned her key, but left a few things behind, including a toothbrush that Jordan had kept. Once home from the hospital, Jordan had called a friend of hers from the morgue in Cambridge and asked him to run a DNA comparison between the genetic material in the toothbrush and some swabbings she had taken from the inside of Joanna's mouth. If the swabs and toothbrush matched, JD was Joanna's father. If not, there was only one other contender for the title.

Joanna. She had finally decided on Joanna Marie for her daughter's name. Joanna was close to her own name and the Marie was from her father's side of the family. It seemed a good choice…to give the child some roots but yet a unique enough name to let her color her own future.

She had mailed David the DNA material two weeks ago and he promised to process the findings as quickly as he could, all the while keeping the results secret. He said he would call her with the results before mailing her a hard copy.

So when her phone rang and the Cambridge morgue's number appeared, Jordan nearly jumped out of her skin. "Hello?" she hesitantly said into the receiver.

"Jordan? It's David. I have the results of the DNA you asked me about."

Jordan took a deep breath. "And."

"It's a match."


	8. And the Beat Goes On

**Chapter Eight**

**And the Beat Goes On**

Before Jordan knew it six months had flown by. Between colic and teething, two a.m. feedings and diaper rash, time passed more rapidly than she ever thought it would It took about three months to get Joanna on a schedule, but she and the baby adjusted to single motherhood better than she ever believed was possible.

She had notified the Pollack family in Australia that her daughter was JD's child. She had received a sweet letter from Tom, JD's brother. A few phone calls later, and Jordan felt like she had in-laws. In the good sense of the word. As Joanna's christening loomed ahead, Tom was planning to fly in to Boston to be one of her daughter's godfathers.

Garret was going to be the other one.

Jordan had given serious consideration to the second godfather…thoughtfully considering Woody in that group. After all, he had literally delivered Joanna. But as the days passed and Garret was more involved in the baby's life than Woody, the chief ME seemed like the most logical choice.

Rounding out the group was Joanna's godmothers, Lily and Lois Carver. Lily was a shoo-in. Jordan chose Lois because of all the detectives in the Boston PD, Jordan had not only worked with her, but so had Max, who regarded the woman highly.

With all the "gods" in place, Jordan had called Paul and arranged the christening at St. Inez, carefully explaining that Joanna's father was deceased, but would have wanted his daughter christened.

The announcements were printed and mailed out. Jordan did make sure Woody received an invitation in the mail.

* * *

"So you're saying I can't go?" Lu quietly asked from across the tiny kitchen in Woody's apartment.

"Jordan didn't list you on the invite, Lu," he responded, carefully tying his tie and attempting to smooth down his unruly hair.

"She wouldn't, you know," the woman responded, somewhat petulantly, a pout beginning to form around her lips.

"I seriously doubt Jordan gives you any thought at all," Woody answered, regarding his reflection in the dresser mirror during the entire discussion. He tried to slick down his hair one more time with no success. Sighing, he turned away and picked up his suit coat from the bed. "But if it's any consolation, I don't think she gives me any thought at all, either. The only reason I'm sure I got an invitation is because she had Joanna in the backseat of my squad car."

Lu sighed and placed her coffee cup in the sink. She had been nursing the now luke warm all morning while watching Woody dress. Part of her secretly hoped he would say "Screw the christening," and spend the rest of the day with her.

But when Woody showered and changed into his good suit, Lu was smart enough to realize that wasn't happening. _Damn_, she had thought, feeling slightly concerned. The odd part was, she really wasn't sure _why_ it bothered her that Woody was going to the baby's christening. It seemed very natural. Woody and Jordan had worked together for a long time. And Woody had delivered the baby.

And it's not like Jordan had pursued Woody at all after that. In fact, it was the exact opposite. Jordan had three months maternity leave and she took every minute of it. Lu had heard that she would pop into the morgue at odd times, just to see everyone and talk, but the ME never made it across the street to the Nineteenth Precinct. If any of the detectives saw Joanna, it was mere coincidence.

Jordan never called Woody. Not once. Although Wood had called her several times to check on her and the baby. A fact that rankled Lu more than slightly. But to Jordan's credit, nothing was ever said to encourage Woody to spend any time at Pearle Street.

All in all, Jordan had been the perfect ex-whatever. Lu couldn't have asked for less of the woman.

However, Woody's continued need to make sure the single mother and baby were alright bothered her on some level. She was far to sophisticated to call it jealousy. But what was it?

Concern that Woody may still prefer Jordan over her?

Or concern that Woody may feel responsible for the young family?

Lu wasn't sure. She just knew she felt like she was running a losing race trying to keep Woody's attention.

But she _was_ trying.

"Maybe so," she finally answered, smiling back at Woody. "But…what do you say about me cooking dinner while you're gone…and when you get back home, we can eat…and I'll wear that new nightgown you bought me last week…."

"The one with…?" His blue eyes danced in anticipation.

Lu nodded. Sex with Woody was the easy part. Keeping his attention afterwards was getting harder everyday.

* * *

"She's beautiful, Jordan," Nigel commented while snapping pictures at the reception held after the christening.

"Thanks. I think so, but I'm supposed to. I'm her mother," Jordan responded with a grin.

"Well, she is…and she looks just like her mother, if I say so myself," Tom Pollack joined in, reaching for his niece. "It's easy to understand why JD wanted to stay in Boston. If all the women here were lovely as these two, I wouldn't want to go back to Sydney, either. Right, Joanna?"

Woody watched from a respectful distance, although he concurred with Tom Pollack. Joanna was as lovely as her mother and looked more like her each day. Chestnut curls…and the blue eyes that had caught his breath at her birth had melted into the cinnamon color of her mother's.

But the shape of the baby's face was all JD's. Even if the Paul hadn't announced the name of Joanna's father at the ceremony, there was no way getting around the fact that the baby belonged to Jordan and JD.

Not Jordan and Woody.

Part of him…a very male part of him…was relieved. The child was not his responsibility, financially or in any other way.

Another part of him, one he still couldn't put a finger on, was acutely disappointed. Whether it that the simple act of procreation had been denied him or the more complex issue that any tie he may have had to Jordan Cavanaugh no longer existed, he wasn't sure.

He just knew a part of him was empty and he longed for something to fill it. Nervously he glanced down at his watch. Six o'clock. He had been at the reception for an hour…a decent amount of time. He slid his gift onto the receiving table and sought Jordan out. "I need to leave, but didn't want to without saying good-bye first," he said to her, gently taking Joanna's hand.

"So soon?" Jordan murmured.

"Yeah… early day tomorrow," he replied, lying through his teeth.

"I'm sorry. Thanks for coming. Thanks for everything, Woody." At least her eyes were sincere.

"I wouldn't have missed it for the world." He brushed his lips against Joanna's forehead and gave Jordan's hand a squeeze before walking to the door. There he turned around and surveyed the group before him. Nigel still taking pictures. Max and Garret enjoying a cigar, out of the range of the baby, of course. Lily and Lois unwrapping Joanna's gifts.

And Jordan finding a quiet spot to nurse her child.

He swallowed hard and shook himself, thanking the powers that be that he was blissfully single and childless. And that a hot, gourmet dinner was waiting, along with a hot, beautiful woman in a very skimpy nightgown.

And then wondered just why all of that sounded a lot lonelier than he would ever admit.


	9. Ain’t it Funny How Time Slips Away

**Chapter Nine**

**Ain't it Funny How Time Slips Away**

She had finally found it. What she had been looking for. What she had talked to Dr. Stiles about so long ago after the bomb exploded on the train.

Unconditional love. Love that knows no boundaries, no end, and nothing that could stop it. Jordan had always assumed that it would be from a man to her.

Instead it was from her to Joanna.

On one level, it shocked Jordan that she could be capable of such a feeling. Unconditional love to someone so dependent on her. On another level, she was responding to motherhood like it was the most normal thing in her life – that she did it everyday and had been doing it for years.

It changed her. Love always does. She became more settled. More responsible. Softer. Even more compassionate. Those that worked the most closely with her noticed it first, but eventually no one could deny those changes.

So the years clicked by. Joanna celebrated her first birthday. There were balloons and a hideous pink Barbie birthday cake – the kind that Jordan always swore in the past she'd never buy for her daughter, if she was to ever have one. She ended up eating those words along with Joanna's cake.

By the time the child had blown out the candles on three more birthday cakes, Jordan had settled into a routine. She still lived on Pearle Street but had "traded up" her one-bedroom studio for a two-bedroom-bigger-kitchen-with-a-dining-room-and-family-room apartment. She had seriously considered kissing her old addresss good-bye, but found in the end, it held too many memories – both good and bad—for her to ever really let it go. The events between those four walls had helped shape her into the person she was. To let it go would be denying part of the woman she had become.

She worked the day shift only, but traded off every other weekend with a staff member. Max had stayed in Boston after Joanna was born and didn't mind babysitting. While hers and his past would always in so many ways remain the elephant in the room, at least the elephant was growing smaller and smaller with each passing year. Soon she hoped it would disappear altogether.

Her career was going well…her daughter was now in pre-school and thriving. Her morgue family was as close to her as ever. Garret had beaten his battle with the bottle. Lily had left Brandeau standing at the altar and was living with Bug. Nigel was…well, Nigel. Jordan's best friend, confident and doting "uncle" to Joanna.

Still close to JD's family, every Christmas Jordan would fly into Sydney, where it would be summer. She'd spend a few days with Pollack's family, letting them get to know his only child. Jordan had discovered through Tom, that despite JD's jokes, he had never been married. She had truly been JD's "malaria." Her heart broke a little each year with the knowledge that JD would never know his daughter and the Joanna would never know her biological father.

Father. Joanna had begun asking questions and Jordan was as honest with her daughter as she could be with a four-year old. She didn't hand Joanna the line the nuns had handed her about Emily. The words "God needed your father more than we did" never passed Jordan's lips. Instead she told Joanna that JD had been killed in an "accident."

Jordan figured that as time passed and the scar on her own heart healed, she could tell an adult Joanna what really happened. She did show her daughter the few pictures she had of JD, and marveled at how much Joanna shared both of her parents' looks, but her father's sense of humor.

Good. Everything was good. Her daughter. Her father. Her morgue "family." Her career.

The only person that was no longer a constant in her life was Woody. She still worked with him occasionally and he did come to Joanna's first birthday party, letting the baby feed him that cake with the way-too pink icing.

Every year after that, he simply sent his gift and card with someone else.

Jordan assumed he was either too busy with Lu or work to take time out to come to a little girl's birthday party, even though technically, he not only delivered Joanna, he was the first one to hold her.

Reflecting back, Jordan decided that she had been right all those years ago, before JD had been murdered and long before she ran: She had grown up. Woody hadn't. She had moved on. He had fallen behind. The few times she had worked with him, she had left the situation feeling a vague sense of unease about him. She couldn't put her finger on it, but something didn't appear to be right with him. At first she chalked it up to perhaps some lingering jealousy over him choosing Lu instead of her.

But that wasn't it.

Maybe it was the void their lost friendship had left in her life? No. She had long ago found other people to fill that niche.

So what was it? Maybe it was his attitude. Maybe it was just the unsettled look that was on his face most of the time. She finally quit puzzling over it.

After years of dancing, they had finally decided to get off the floor. They had both moved on. It was better this way…and far healthier. Jordan could barely find five minutes to herself in the morning to put on her make up. The thought of having to foster a relationship with him or any other man left her physically and mentally exhausted.

Joanna came first. She was the center of Jordan's universe. If a man entered their equation, he would have to rotate around her daughter, too.

* * *

Woody paused as he picked up his mail out of his box at the bottom floor of his building. Tucking it under his arm, he let himself in his apartment and slammed the door behind him, running a hand down his tired face. He threw the mail on the counter and then threw himself under a hot shower spray to try to revive himself for the evening.

It had been a long day…at the end of a long week…at the end of a long month…at the end of another long year. Fighting crime didn't get any easier and the criminals just seemed to get more violent and smarter as time went by. He rinsed himself off, wrapped a towel around him and found some old jeans to put on while he cooked supper.

But he stopped when his reflection in the mirror caught his attention. For thirty-eight he still looked pretty good. His abs were tight and the gray that was settling in at his temples didn't look half bad. His eyes were still the bright, pale blue always caught people's attention.

And the scars were fading.

Three surgical scars were fading into faint, silvery lines. While they would never go completely away, they were getting less noticeable. The last time he made love to a woman, she hadn't even noticed them. And they were doing it in the middle of the afternoon, at her apartment, with all the lights on.

He wished the memories behind his scars would fade that way, too. But they didn't. Like the scars, they had receded a little over the years. He didn't wake up in a cold sweat from a bad dream as much as he used to. When he drew his gun now, his hand was steady and didn't tremble. The sound of a car backfiring or a gunshot didn't send an irrepressible shiver up his spine any longer.

And now he always made sure he had good back up before he cleared a room during a raid.

However, the side effects of his wounds remained unsettling. He still, on occasion, had to be told to "check your attitude at the door, Hoyt," by the captain, even though those times were getting further and further apart. His last five psych exams had come back with glowing recommendations.

It was his personal life that was still the issue. What he had of it. Woody had reached out to Cal in the last year and the brothers were making strides at reconciling. They may never see eye-to-eye, but in some ways, they were all each other had. It had finally seemed silly to Woody to let Cal's past stand in the way of their future. They would always be brothers, and to his credit, Cal _was_ trying. He had long ago left Wisconsin for Texas, where he worked as a ranch hand. The outdoor work and companionship of horses seemed to be exactly what the younger Hoyt brother needed. He was thriving and talking about purchasing a small ranch outside of Houston. He was eager for Woody to fly down during his next vacation and help scout out some areas.

Woody was flattered that Cal trusted him. The detective didn't know a damn thing about horses.

_I know even less about women_, he thought as he shrugged into a t-shirt. He and Lu had tried their best to make a go of it, but had failed miserably. The sex had been great – it was the time outside of the sheets that had grown to be unbearable. Lu's suspicions and jealousy of Jordan continued to grow as time went by.

Even though Jordan gave the woman no reason to worry. The ME had quite effectively dropped out of Woody's life. Except for a rare case together now and then, they never saw each other.

Woody had pointed that out to Lu after their last blow up, as she was throwing her things in her suitcase to leave. "I know," the female detective had hissed, "but I can't fight a ghost."

"You're not…"

"Maybe not here," she had retorted, pointing to the bed, "but here," she gestured to Woody's head, "and here," his heart, "I don't stand a chance."

That had been three years ago. She had walked out. He had seen her at the precinct for a few weeks, and then she transferred to narcotics. The last he heard, she had transferred back to Virginia.

So Woody, his pet goldfish, and a houseplant or two had been alone for a while now. _It's not such a bad life, _he thought, as he threw a Stouffer's Lasagna into the microwave. _At least no one's yelling at me to pick my dirty boxers up off the floor or get my wet towels off the bed_. The microwave dinged and announced dinner was served. Balancing the pasta, a beer, and the day's mail, Woody stretched out on the couch in front of the television set, flipping to ESPN to see if he could catch the latest on his beloved Bruins. Absent-mindedly he flipped through the mail. Bill. Bill. Advertisement. Bill. A card.

Turning it over, he ran a fingernail under the flap to open it. Birthday party invitation…Joanna Pollack. A smile slid across Woody's face. The little baby he delivered in the back of his squad car was going to be five. It didn't seem possible she was starting school this fall.

It didn't seem possible he and the child's mother rarely spoke anymore. If someone would have told him seven years ago this would be the relationship between the two of them, he would have laughed in their face and sworn he and Jordan would be married by now with two-point-five kids of their own.

_Ain't it funny how time slips away…._

He threw the invitation on the coffee table near his keys to remind him to pick Joanna up a card and present before next weekend. As usual, he would send his gift by Lily or Garret. Before he always used Lu as an excuse for not going. Despite what Jordan had professed to "being over" him and Lu, the ME had never included Lu's name on any of the invitations.

After Lu left, Woody knew it would be an exercise in painful therapy to see Jordan, her family and friends, and her daughter celebrating around ice cream and a cake with candles.

Jordan was settled…Jordan _had_ grown up…Jordan had love in her life. She was content and happy.

Her life was a painful reminder that despite the years that had gone by, Woody's life had none of that. He worked. He went home. Occasionally, he dated. On even rarer occasions, he got lucky.

But other that that, he was alone in an existence of his own making…letting time slip away.


	10. If I Knew You Were Coming…I’d Have Baked

**Chapter 10**

**If I Knew You Were Coming…I'd Have Baked a Cake**

A migraine within four walls.

That's how Woody would have described Saturday afternoon at Toys R Us. Kids. Grown ups.

And lots of whining and crying.

In the midst of the chaos, Woody heard his name being called. "Woody….Woody Hoyt….what are you doing here?" Lily. She was there with Bug and both of them were on the same mission as Woody was – Joanna Pollack's birthday present.

"Seems like there's a birthday party tomorrow," he joked, while perusing the Barbie collection and wondering which one Joanna _didn't_ have.

"Ugh. Those awful things," Lily replied, gesturing to the fashion dolls. "Gives girls unrealistic expectations of their physical attributes."

"She's five, Lily…not fifteen," Woody answered.

"Still….Joanna should have crayons or paint…clay or …"

"A microscope," Bug joined in, his eyes twinkling. "With slides and everything else."

Lily groaned. "Jordan would kill you…Joanna likes hanging out at the morgue too much for her own good now. Give her a microscope and she might get worse."

Woody chuckled. It sounded like the little girl he delivered was getting more like her mother everyday. "So what do we buy her? I am totally clueless as to what to buy an up-and-coming five year-old. Any suggestions?"

"She likes books," Lily answered.

"So she reads already?"

"Jordan taught her last year….Joanna wanted to learn…"

"Sounds like Jordan has developed the patience of a saint…"

"She has gotten a whole lot better … guess that's what having a kid does for you."

Woody nodded and continued to peruse the Barbie section, despite Lily's condemnation of the doll. _The only thing they don't have is Medical Examiner Barbie…_ he thought.

"I know what Joanna really wants…but I'm not brave enough to buy it," Bug finally said. "Jordan would kill me."

Curiosity peaked, Woody had to ask. "What?"

"An Easy-Bake Oven."

Lily groaned. "No. No way, Bug. We are _so_ not buying Joanna that. You're right….Jordan _would_ kill us. Those things make such a mess and Jordan would end up cleaning it up."

Grinning, Woody looked around the toy department. "And where are these little jewels?"

"Woody – you're not…" Lily began.

"Right over there," Bug said pointing. "And you're a braver man than I am, Hoyt." He slapped Woody on the back.

"Thanks…I'll be right back…." Woody strolled over to the tiny ovens, putting one of them along with several of the baking kits in his cart.

"Woodrow Wilson Hoyt…if you think I'm taking that to Joanna's party for you, you're sadly mistaken. I won't be the object of Jordan's wrath…" Lily called after him.

Looking over his shoulder, Woody smirked at the couple and headed for the check out line. So he'd blow an afternoon at a pre-schooler's birthday party, so what? It's not like he had anything else better to do.

And besides, the look on Jordan's face would be worth it.

* * *

If chaos had a name, it would be Chuck E. Cheese.

_And if the mouse had any sense, he'd get out of the kids' birthday party business…_ Woody thought to himself over the din of twenty-five of Joanna's _closest_ friends and their parents, all merged together in the dining room of the children's pizzeria and game room. "How does any sane person put up with this?" he shouted to Bug.

"I don't know. I think your hearing and your sanity goes out the window as soon as you become a parent," Bug shouted back.

"Not to mention your sex life," added Garret. "After Abby was born, I don't think Maggie and I had sex for three years…at least until Abby was always sleeping through the night."

"At least Jordan doesn't have to worry about that," Bug said. Woody raised his eyebrows, a silent entreaty for a love-life update on his once ex-almost something. "She doesn't have one. She doesn't date at all. Joanna is her life," Bug explained, his voice a little softer.

"Ah." Woody imagined that, along with a five year-old, would explain Jordan's current attribute of patience.

"Joanna's getting ready to open her presents," said Bug. "If I were you, I'd duck and run, Hoyt."

"Not a chance. He's staying right here," Lily said, joining the childless knot of friends. "When Jordan comes after him with her scalpel, I want a front row seat."

Woody chuckled nervously and watched as Jordan helped her daughter open the presents. Jordan had seen him when he arrived at the party and the look on her face registered surprise. Woody really couldn't blame her. After three years of just sending Joanna's gift by someone else, he was sure his actual presence at the party was somewhat of a shock. Barbies…books…paints….games….finally Jordan hoisted up Woody's gift to the table and looked on as Joanna stripped away the wrapping paper and bows.

"Mom….an Easy Bake Oven," the little girl squealed with excitement. "I've always wanted one…"

"And I've always said no," Jordan murmured under her breath. "Thank you, Woody." The look she shot the detective across the room was worth more than a thousand words.

"Who gave it to me….who?" Joanna asked.

"Detective Hoyt…he's standing right over there by Bug," her mother answered, nodding to Woody, who gave the child a small wave.

"Thank you!" Joanna ran over and hugged Woody around the legs.

"Ummmm you're welcome…" Woody answered, wondering what was the most tactful way to disengage himself from a five year-old girl.

"I'll bake a cake just for you…"

"You will? That would be great…" Bug didn't tell him an Easy Bake Oven came complete with awkward moments.

"And I'll send it by Mom."

Woody tugged at his collar. "That'll be wonderful, Joanna…."

"And he'll eat every bite. I stay and make sure of it," Jordan said, joining them, her eyes still containing some left over daggers that weren't shot at him before. "And autopsy you afterwards myself."

* * *

The oven broke the ice. After five years of avoiding each other at every opportunity, Woody found the iceberg between himself and Jordan first melted a little…then cracked a bit at the time.

Especially when Jordan brought a sloppily frosted Easy-Bake chocolate cake complete with candy sprinkles to his office and watched gleefully while he ate every bite … waving her scalpel back and forth between her index finger and thumb the whole time. The crack definitely widened then.

But if he expected their relationship to revert to the way it was six or seven years ago, he gave no indication of those expectations. And if he had, he would have been sorely disappointed.

The fact was, whatever they had now between them…a working relationship, friendship-lite…whatever it was, couldn't be like it had been because they weren't what they used to be. Despite the fact that in the past, Jordan had accused Woody of not growing up, at some point in time, he got over his Peter Pan syndrome and left Neverland.

Jordan noticed it as once again he began asking for her when she was on call. His shoulders were still just as broad, and he still had one of those breath-taking physiques. And God knows his eyes were still the same heart-breaking blue…

But inside…inside Woody Hoyt was not the man he used to be. He was serious…too serious for Jordan's comfort. He would still smile, but it was a rare occasion when his smile actually reached his eyes.

It was even rarer when she saw his dimples.

When she finally got up enough courage to ask him what had happened, his answer was simple. "I'm thirty-eight now, Jor. Not thirty-three. I've changed. I guess…. I guess I'm a man now."

It was on the tip of her tongue to ask him what had he been back then…but the look in his eyes stopped her. He wasn't _her_ Farm Boy any longer…if he ever had been to begin with. And besides…despite what Pollack had told her years before, Jordan was over her malaria.

And evidently she had never infected Woody. They were once again a great team as they worked together, but the minute it was time to punch out, Jordan went home to Joanna…and Woody went…well, she wasn't sure where Woody went. He never mentioned anything about his life outside of work unless it was the occasional BoSox game he caught with Garret.

It would take another party…this time without a bunch of five year-olds and an Easy Bake Oven … to get the truth out of him.


	11. Jaded

**Chapter Eleven**

**Jaded**

Nigel's birthday. His fortieth birthday to be exact and ample cause for celebration by one and all. The morgue had reserved a space at what used to be the Pogue and planned to party throughout the night. Jordan had asked Max to keep Joanna for the night and she planned to let down her hair and enjoy herself -- a long deserved night out sans child.

Woody would be there. She knew that. She had seen his name on the invitation list. And unlike in the years past, it didn't make her stomach turn inside out.

Hell, she wasn't sure why seeing him had ever brought such a reaction in the first place. She had been pregnant with another man's child…Woody delivered it. In a Norman Rockwell kind of world, the birth of Joanna should have righted all the wrongs.

But Norman Rockwell obviously knew little about her situation. Instead of painting a future of friendship, Jordan had witnessed them both deliberately seeing each other less and less. At first she attributed that to Lu. If Woody and Lu had been trying to work things out, make a go of it and get serious with each other, Jordan was smart enough to realize that she was "the other woman," even if she did nothing to try to interfere with Woody's and Lu's relationship. What Jordan and Woody had in the past was nothing short of combustible in chemistry. Even JD, with all his brass and sass, had been a little afraid of it.

Ever since Joanna's fifth birthday party, the ice around the relationship had melted…until now it was at the point of slush. They worked together, laughed together, and Jordan even did her elevator trick on him again a time or two. The ice was leaving in a spring thaw, but Jordan wasn't sure what was beneath it. Maybe it was time to take a peek. Nigel's party seemed like the perfect excuse to thaw out the rest of the snow and have a look see.

If Woody would cooperate.

* * *

Cooperation takes on many forms. While Jordan found that Woody was more than willing to play pool and even dance with her again, he wasn't much of a talker any longer. So Jordan found an ally in a familiar source. A few shots of Tequila and Woody was loosening up considerably, and was much more apt to be cooperative. "One more game with me?" she asked, indicating the pool tables. "Just one more before we have to go?"

"Or they kick us out?" he asked. The crowd had grown into a ruckus several times that evening.

"Yeah." She reached for a cue, but his hand shot out and stopped her.

"I don't want to shoot another game with you, Jordan. You've already won fifty of my hard earned dollars tonight."

"I told you to take your money back."

"No…you won them fair and square. I really need to be going anyway. It's getting late."

"No it's not…come on, Woody. We're having fun. We haven't had fun together in years…"

"I have an early day tomorrow, Jo."

"So do I, but…" her voice trailed off "If you have to go…I understand. I guess Lu's waiting…" Jordan knew Lu hadn't been invited to the party…the female detective's name was no where on the invitation list.

"Lu has nothing to do with it," Woody responded in a sharp tone, while reaching for his coat. "Nothing at all."

Jordan bit back the obvious question on her tongue, instead answering him with silence for a moment. "Can I at least get you another drink before I pour you into a cab and send you home?"

Woody hesitated. "Another beer. But no more Tequila shooters, okay?"

Jordan nodded and guided him to the bar. "Two Guinness," she told the bar tender. She waited until Woody had taken a long pull off his. "This is kinda nice…us just hanging out together again."

"She left me Jordan."

For a second Jordan was confused. "She? She who?"

"Lu. Lu left me."

"I'm sorry, Woody. When did this happen?"

"A couple of years ago."

Breathing in sharply, Jordan felt a pang of conscience. She and Woody had drifted so far apart that Jordan wasn't even aware of Lu's absence. Her comment about Lu this evening must have struck him raw. "I'm….I'm…sorry Woody…do you want to talk about it?"

Woody chuckled…a mirthless sound even to Jordan's semi-drunk ears. "Not really. She just said she couldn't compete with you."

"Me? What was there to compete with me on?"

"Evidently Lu thought that while she may have my attention in bed, you were still in my heart. Said she couldn't compete with a ghost."

"But…there was nothing…I did nothing…."

"I know you did…I mean didn't. I know you didn't do anything to give anyone any ideas that there was anything between us." He ran his fingers through his hair. "It was my fault."

"Your fault?"

Woody nodded and took another pull off his beer. "It's taken me a long time to get over my issues Jordan. A long time. And it was an incredibly painful process, let me assure you. And I have come to one conclusion. I should have never come to Boston, Jordan."

The harshness of his words caught her breath. If he had never come here…then…

"I should have never come to Boston," he repeated, a bitter edge to his voice now. "I should have never worked at this damn police department. Because now that I'm here, I feel like I can't leave…that some vortex is holding me here…captive….and I can't get away. And every time I feel like my life is changing for the better, it gets worse. First you and I, then I got shot…then Lu." He slid off the barstool. "I wish to God I had never set foot in this town…and I wish to God you had never told me that you loved me."

* * *

His words were like cold water being thrown in her face. For a moment she stood there in shocked silence as she watched him make his way unsteadily towards the door. She had wanted to find out the truth tonight…what was underneath the ice…but she wasn't so sure she liked what she saw.

A broken heart? No…it was more than that…it was a broken man. A man with too many regrets and an uncertain future. It wasn't until the bell jangled over the door when he left that Jordan came to her senses.

He didn't need to be driving in the state he was in…forget the alcohol… the sheer emotional torture he was in was more than enough to affect him. "Woody…wait," she called out after his retreating figure and ran out the door after him. She caught up with him on the sidewalk. "Woody…"

"What?" His voice was flat and lifeless.

"Come back inside. Let me get you a cab or ask someone to take you home."

"Jordan…"

"You don't need to be driving when you're like this."

"I know…" he leaned back against the wall of the bar. "I hate evenings like this."

"What? When you bare your soul and speak what's on your mind?" She managed to swallow her pain and give him a lop-sided grin.

"No…that the truth ends up biting you in the ass…again. Just when you've think you've dealt with it and are okay."

"I'm sorry." Jordan looked down for a moment. "But I didn't do anything wrong when I told you I loved you. It was what was on my heart. My timing sucked and I admit that. But that doesn't mean I wasn't honest with you at the time."

Woody gave her a jaded look and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "Just…call me a cab, Jordan. I'll see you tomorrow at work."


	12. Backseat of a Greyhound Bus

**Chapter Eleven**

**Backseat of a Greyhound Bus**

But Jordan didn't see Woody at work the next day…or the next week. They worked different shifts.

And when their timetables finally did align and she caught one of his cases, the situation was awkward to say the least. Jordan let it ride, thinking that as time went on, their relationship might ease back into something that was similar to normal.

At least normal to them. In a lifetime of fits and starts, quits and do-overs, she wasn't quite sure what 'normal' was for them anymore. Or if they had even somewhere merely approached it.

However circumstances are strange coincidences. And it was the beginning of a horrific circumstance that began to lead them back to where they were…years before. To that point where Woody had bared his heart enough to her to offer her a diamond friendship ring that she had rejected and regretted ever since.

* * *

"There's a mass casualty on the pike," Garret announced, striding into the break room. 

"What does it look like?" Bug asked, making a move from the room to gather supplies and head out, Nigel and Jordan on his heels.

"Not sure exactly. The EMT's have confirmed fifteen dead. Numerous others injured. It's gonna be all hands on deck for a while," Garret replied.

"How many cars are involved?" asked Jordan.

"Not cars. Transfer truck and a Greyhound bus."

_Dear God…_the nearly incoherent thought flew through Jordan's mind as she grabbed her cell and phoned Joanna's babysitter on the way out the door. "Mrs. Gleason? I'm going to be late getting home from work this afternoon."

"That's fine, dear." The calming voice of Ellen Gleason knitted Jordan's frayed nerves together for a minute.

"It's that wreck on the pike…"

"The one with the bus and the truck? It's all over the news."

"Yeah…I'm not sure how long…"

"Don't worry about it. Let Joanna just stay the night. Then come get her tomorrow after your rested."

"But I don't want to intrude…"

"You're not. She's more than welcome and keeps me company. Just go do what you have to and don't worry about Joanna. She'll be fine."

"Thanks, Mrs. Gleason…." Jordan flipped her cell phone shut and thanked the Powers that Be for Ellen Gleason one more time. In a world where most single mother's resources were stretched thin, Ellen Gleason was more than a God-send. She was Jordan's answer to a grandmother for her daughter.

Jordan was still giving thanks when she and Bug pulled up to the mangled wreckage a few minutes later. The fire department was there, putting out the lingering flames of the transfer truck and containing the fuel spill. Through the smoke and chaos, Jordan recognized a pair of broad shoulders and blue eyes that were beginning to redden as a result of the suet and smoke. "Woody?" she lightly tapped him on the shoulder.

"We have fifteen known dead…over there," he said, turning and pointing, not acknowledging her greeting. "And we're still not through combing the bus yet."

"I'll let Bug and Nigel begin processing the known deceased. You and I can take the bus, okay?"

"Jordan…" While Woody was aware that Garret would probably send all of the ME's he had on hand to the site, he had hoped that he and Jordan could continue to keep their space. It was awkward…this thing between them, especially after their icy friendship had begun to thaw. But somewhere between the memories of what could have been and the reality of what was now, it just seemed easier if they never thought about the future through the eyes of the past.

It just seemed safer at least.

At least for both of their hearts. Even if his still beat faster when he saw her and he still dreamed about her at night.

But she was already climbing in the wreckage of the bus and it was all Woody could do to keep up with her. "Hey….wait for me," he called out after her, crawling behind her. "You could get hurt….where are you?"

"In the back…oh God…"

The tone of her voice brought him quickly to her side. After assessing the situation, he agreed with her.

A young woman, quite possibly in her late teens, was in the back of bus.

And she was very pregnant.

And she was in labor.

* * *

"Alert the EMT's they need to get in here, STAT," Jordan told him, kneeling down beside the girl, who was fading in and out of consciousness. "Hey." Jordan directed the statement to the young mother, softy but forcefully. "Hey. You need to stay with us…for your baby's sake." 

"It hurts…."

"I know." Jordan took the young girl's hand. "I've had one of my own. Hurts like hell."

The girl nodded in agreement.

"My name's Jordan. What's yours?"

"Sarah."

"Okay Sarah. We're going to sit tight and wait on the EMT's. They'll be here in just a minute."

"I don't think I can wait. I was fine until the wreck. Then my water broke."

"Are you full-term?"

"The baby's due next month."

Jordan smiled at Sarah and then gave Woody a look. He had been on the radio with the paramedics since they had found Sarah. They were coming in. He nodded at Jordan, who sighed with relief. The last thing she was anticipating in all this craziness was a teenaged girl in labor…

"I feel like I have to push…." Sarah's statement snapped Jordan back to reality.

"Don't! Just hang in there another minute…." Jordan replied.

"I can't…." Sarah's answer came out on a sob.

"Sarah…look, honey…focus. The EMT's are right outside. They're trying to get through the emergency door without injuring anyone else. You can hang on for another minute. Breathe with me…"

Sarah shook her head. "That's easy for you to say…I bet you didn't have your baby in a wreck like this…"

"Nope. But close…"

"Close?'

To keep Sarah's mind off the labor pains that Jordan knew were racking her body, she related the story of Joanna's birth in the Williams tunnel. "And I didn't even make it to the hospital. Detective Hoyt here….he delivered my daughter."

The young girl tightened her hold on Jordan's hand. "You were lucky," she whispered. "To have someone there for you that knew what to do and cared about you…."

_Cared about you…_the statement shook Jordan. Woody did care for her…in some way, she knew. And in her heart, she knew she returned the sentiment…but things had become so complicated and they had changed so much. Once again, she glanced up at Woody, who had remained silent during this time, except for his conversation with the paramedics over the radio. The look in his eyes told her that Woody was reliving every moment of Joanna's birth. "I was lucky," Jordan whispered back. "Especially since Joanna's father died before she was born."

"That's tough," Sarah answered, biting her lip against another labor pain. "My baby's father….won't have anything to do with me now."

"The EMT's are here now," Woody broke in, as the sound of twisting metal filled the air. The jaws of life had finally had to be brought in so that an area could be opened up to get Sarah out.

There was a flurry of activity and soon Sarah was loaded on a gurney and whisked by ambulance to Boston General. Jordan and Woody watched as the lights and the sirens faded away before they turned their attention back to the wreckage.

Out of the smoke and the chaos…the ugliness of a mass casualty situation…there was a bright spot. A new life. A baby.

Verification that death doesn't swallow everything up. Jordan glanced at Woody again and was surprised to find him looking at her with a new light in his eyes.

Or was it an old one she just hadn't seen in a very long time?


	13. Why Are You Here?

**Chapter Twelve**

**Why Are You Here?**

It took three showers and washing her long, brown hair five times to fully get the smell of smoke and death off of her.

After she and Woody had cleared the rest of the Greyhound bus, Jordan had gone back to the morgue and worked a full twelve hours before Garret finally ran her off. "Go home, Jordan," he had finally told her.

"But…."

"But nothing. Lily's nearly through notifying everyone we can right now, which is most of the victims. The dead are going to be dead 24-hours from now, too. I can't afford for you to be so tired tomorrow that you can't come in," he replied with a crooked grin. "So go…home. Joanna can't afford for you to be sick either."

It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him that Joanna had an overnight babysitter and she could work for the next twelve hours before anyone would miss her, but the words caught in her throat as a wave of exhaustion – mental and physical – washed over her. "If you don't mind, I think I will go home."

"Go. And get at least ten hours of sleep before I see you again. Do you hear me?"

Jordan nodded wearily as she shut down her computer and began to gather her things to go home. The full smell of the day didn't catch up with her until she was seated in her SUV going home. _I positively stink_….

Which accounted for the three showers and five shampoos before she was satisfied that the only thing she smelled like was Bath and Body's Jasmine Lavender.

Now it was late. And the fact that she had not stopped for lunch or dinner began to be a factor as her stomach growled. Except for a sleeve of crackers she had grabbed during one of the few slow moments, she hadn't eaten all day. She was contemplating the virtues of a Lean Cuisine against the sinful delight of a pepperoni pizza when her doorbell rang. Pulling her robe tighter, she wondered if Dominoes now had psychics taking orders when she found Woody leaning against her door jam. His dress coat nonexistent and his tie looking just as limp as he did. "Hey," he greeted softly. His eyes were still red and puffy from the smoke at the wreck site.

"Hi." Awkward pause. "Come in." She held the door open wider and he slipped inside. Jordan shut it behind him.

"A girl."

"What?"

"Sarah…she had a girl."

"Oh…"

"After everything at the precinct kind of quieted down, I went to Boston General to check on her. She had a girl. A six pound, twelve ounce baby girl. Perfectly healthy. Seventeen inches long." Woody recited the facts like a last minute Hail Mary.

"That's wonderful." Jordan looked at his face…tired, still streaked with smoke…red eyes. She was sure they both needed to sleep a week to get over today.

"She asked about you."

"Sarah? Did you tell her I was working?"

Woody shook his head. "No. She didn't ask where you were at. She asked what your name was. She didn't like Jordan too much." His lips twisted in a grin. "But she liked Marie. So she named the baby Marie. She said Jordan was too ambiguous."

Jordan chuckled and nodded. "I know. Remember…you thought Dr. Jordan Cavanaugh was a man until you met me."

"I know. I didn't make that mistake for long." Jordan felt his eyes run up and down her body, bare beneath the robe she had thrown on to answer the door.

Another awkward pause. "Anyway…I need to be going," Woody concluded, making his way back to the door.

"Thanks for dropping by and letting me know…"

"No problem….where's Joanna?"

"She's at Mrs. Gleason's for the night."

"Oh."

Jordan watched his eyes flicker over her apartment, coming to rest on a picture of herself and JD. She felt the air shimmer around them again. "I'll talk to you later, Jordan."

"She was asking questions."

"What?"

"Joanna. She was asking questions. About her father."

"That's only natural."

"I know. That's why the picture…."

"You don't have to explain yourself, Jordan."

"I know." And she did. She knew she didn't have to explain herself to anyone nor did she need to justify her actions to anybody. But somehow it was important to her that Woody realize it was Joanna's questions, not Jordan's inclinations, that brought JD's picture out. "Joanna was wondering what her father looked like…"

"Like I said, it's only natural." Woody shuffled his feet for a moment. "Anyway, I need to go." He began to inch his way toward the door.

"Are you hungry?" Her voice stopped his hand on the door knob.

"Hungry?" Woody thought for a moment. He had drunk numerous cups of coffee today, but as far as remembering a meal, last night's leftovers were the only thing that sprang to mind. But he didn't have to answer. His stomach responded for him.

"I'll take that as a yes." Jordan smiled and reached for the phone. "You still like olives on your pizza?"

"Ummm sure. No." But it was too late. She was already placing the order. "But I need to go home and shower…I smell like smoke."

"Still carry your workout clothes around in your car?"

He nodded.

"Then go get them. You can shower and change into sweats while we're waiting on the pizza."

"But Jordan…."

"We need to talk, Woody. After today, you and I both know, we need to talk. You didn't come here just to tell me Sarah had a girl.

* * *

"Where's Joanna?" Woody asked after he got out of Jordan's shower … where he found a bathroom awash with a curious mix of little girl's water toys and a woman's jasmine vanilla body wash. A combination that left him kiltingly off-balance and his blood just slightly racing at discovering what her familiar scent was.

"The babysitter's. She's keeping Joanna all night for me, so I could work as long as I needed to."

"Does that happen often?" Woody nearly bit his tongue into over that last comment. Joanna was not his child and Jordan….Jordan wasn't his anything, so it wasn't any of his business…

But still…it must be hard on both of them at times. He had never really contemplated that fact until now, but he mulled it over in his head as he reached for his first piece of pizza and watched as Jordan waded through a shelf of sippy cups before she found two adult-sized drinking glasses. "No…not often," she turned from the cabinet to him with a smile. "But sometimes, on occasion…when death doesn't take a holiday."

Woody nodded. "But it's gotta be hard…being away from her like that."

"It is," Jordan said on a sigh. "But you do what you have to do to make a living…And Joanna understands more than most people thinks she does." She finished her last piece of pizza and pushed her plate away. "You didn't come here just to tell me about Sarah, or to talk about Joanna…or to question my parenting skills, Woody. Which brings me back to my statement. We need to talk. Why are you really here?"


	14. Too Stubborn to Settle For Second Best

**Chapter Fourteen**

**Too Stubborn to Settle For Second Best**

_Why am I here?_

Woody rolled the thought around in his mind for a second. He knew, but he didn't know exactly how to verbalize it. And it had him so addled he had asked twice about Joanna.

Because when you boiled the reason for his visit down, Joanna was at the core.

His mind had replayed a thousand flashbacks today when Sarah had gone into labor on that Greyhound bus. Seeing Jordan return to Boston pregnant. Deep down hoping the baby was his. It would have kept him and Jordan connected for the rest of their lives by DNA, blood, and the love and concern for a child.

Being disappointed when Jordan had told him her initial due date.

Then having his hopes raised again when the baby came early. Delivering a child he had dared believe by a wisp of faith could be his. Holding Joanna and praying that the blue eyes she was born with genetically linked the baby to him.

Then dealing with the reality that like Jordan had told him, Joanna was _Pollack's _daughter, not his. Swallowing the disappointment and going on with his life, exquisitely aware that at any point in time the woman that still held his heart could leave Boston and disappear out of his life. And he couldn't stop her because he had no DNA anchor to hold on to her.

He thought he had dealt with his bitterness: Jordan fleeing Boston and not telling him, yet trusting him enough to let him deal with the evidence she shipped back; The fact that Joanna wasn't his child; That he totally fucked up whatever he had with Lu because deep in his heart, he was praying for a reunion that was not likely to happen.

But the bitterness erupted again when he had told Jordan he wished she had never told him that she loved him. He knew the statement would hurt her. Jordan Cavanaugh, if nothing else, told the truth. It may be rough around the edges and jagged at the seams, but she had told him what she felt. Honest. Open. Everything that he wasn't.

So he knew it was true. On some level, at some time, Jordan had loved him. And he knew it would make her wince just a little when once again he threw it back in her face. Bitterness had been eating him alive and was a cold, lonely bedfellow at night. He had wanted her to share the experience.

That was then. Now…he just wanted…"Do you ever wish you could go back and change the past?" The words were out of his mouth before he knew it.

"What?" Jordan looked up, startled. He had been quiet for so long, she had nearly assumed he wasn't going to answer her question.

"Do you ever wish you could go back and change the past? Undo what you did…change history?"

Her lips quirked up at the corners. "Sometimes…I wish I wouldn't have been so obsessed with my mother's murder…it cost me time with my dad and damaged friendships nearly beyond repair."

Woody nodded. "Anything else?"

Jordan sighed. "JD. In one way I wish I would have never gotten involved with him. At least he might still be alive. But then I wouldn't have Joanna. So I guess there's a silver lining behind every cloud."

"Ohhhhh, so Jordan Cavanaugh _does_ have a pair of rose-colored glasses somewhere…"

Jordan chuckled along with him. "Just don't you dare tell a soul. My cynical persona cover will be blown." She paused for a moment. "So what about you? Is there something in your past you wish you could change?"

Woody rubbed the back of his neck. "Cal."

"Well, there's a whole boat load of issues there."

He nodded in agreement. "Everything would have to be changed…."

There was a quiet pause in the conversation, but Jordan knew that it wasn't over. "Is there anything else?' she prompted quietly.

"I wish Joanna was mine." The words came out in a rush, as if he didn't get a chance to say them quickly enough, he never would get them out.

Smiling sadly at him, Jordan replied. "I'm sorry. But she's not. She's a great kid, I can see why…."

"She would link us."

"What?" Jordan shook her head. "I'm not following."

"Don't you see? If Joanna was mine, we'd have this link between us…something that would always be there between us…"

"Woody…" Jordan felt all the breath squeeze out if her lungs. "She's not yours…but a child can't serve as an emotional bond between two adults. It's not fair to the parents or the kid."

"I know…I just….just…"

"Spill it, Woody. All of it."

"I wish I could go back and change _us_. That night on your birthday when I gave you the friendship ring? I wish I could go back and change it. See you take it. The Lucy Carver Inn? I wish it would have snowed us in for a week. I would have kept you in that bed, but I wouldn't have pushed you away once we got back to Boston. I wish there had never been a Lu…or even a JD…except for Joanna…I wish…"

Jordan's head swam. The sheer earnestness in his voice swept her away. There was no doubt in her mind that he was being truthful with her. That a large part of his history, he wished he could go back and rewrite.

But the emotional pain that was playing across his features made her ache for him. "Oh Woods," she got out on a whisper.

"I know." His lips twisted up into a wry grin. "Too late. There's a reason they call it history, right? And a reason you can't travel back in time." He turned to face her….to try to salvage the scraps of their relationship and see if he couldn't fashion them into some kind of friendship, at least.

And was surprised to find her whisky-colored eyes swimming in tears. Pity? Regret? He wasn't sure. Maybe he didn't want to find out. "I guess I should go," he murmured, getting his plate and walking over to the sink. "Thanks for dinner…"

"I was going to take it." Her words, said so low he had to strain to hear them, still cut him to the soul.

"Take it?" He turned from the sink to face her.

"Yeah. The ring. I was going to take it." She moved across the floor to stand in front of him. "That night…when you came back to my office and said it was better that we just be friends…do you remember what I was doing when you came in the door?"

Woody flipped through the files in his mind. "You were on the phone," he said slowly.

"I was calling you. I was going to ask you if it was okay if I changed my mind…if I could wear your ring. Be your friend. And something more…but then you said…"

Woody let out a breath he felt like he had been holding for seven years. "You were? And then I said…What a fuck up…." He ran a trembling hand through his hair. "That means…everything…everything would have been different if I just would have let you talk…"

Jordan nodded. "If you were that undecided…first wanting to give me a ring and us move the relationship to the next level…and then less than 24-hours later change your mind, I figured you really weren't sure…so I didn't push the issue…."

"Jesus…"

They both stared at each other for a long moment…the realization that their present could be very different if they could have re-written the past. Joanna could have been Woody's. The fact was by this time, if Woody would have let Jordan talk, not only would they have Joanna, but probably at least one other little Hoyt running rampant through the house.

A house. Their home. Together.

Woody bit his lip. Jordan fought back another round of tears. "I have a big mouth," he finally said. "that I seem to constantly be putting my foot in when it comes to you, Jordan."

She nodded in perfect agreement. "Yes, you do."

He chuckled then. She was still honest. Still blunt. And still as sexy as hell. "I guess the past has bit us both in the ass today."

"I guess so…"

Woody shifted nervously from foot to foot. "So…."

"I don't know," she replied to his unasked question. "I don't know where we go from here. I just know we can't change the past."

"The future? What about that?"

"I don't know that, either. I'm many things. Psychic isn't one of them, though," Jordan replied wryly. "But I know one thing, Woody. What we had…it was real. In many ways, it still is. We've both been through hell, but here we are still together…still friends, at least. We've both had relationships with other people, but look at us. You're standing in my kitchen in your workout clothes and I'm in my bathrobe. I had another man's child that you delivered and wish was your own. That's something. I'm not sure what…but it's something…electrical…chemical….whatever. I just know that we keep ending up with each other because any other relationship is always second best. And we're both too stubborn to settle for that."


	15. Settling In

**Chapter Fifteen**

**Settling In**

Woody looked over at Jordan, who was lying on the beach, her face tilted up towards a late summer Boston sun. Then he shook his head over the series of events that had brought them to this place on the Massachusetts shore.

_I just know that we keep ending up with each other because any other relationship is always second best. And we're both too stubborn to settle for that – _Jordan's comment rolled through both of their heads that evening at her apartment. They both were well aware of what it meant. How to make it happen – or even _if_ – to make it happen were the issues.

The ifs – What would happen if they both risked their hearts again? And if it would work, how would it work? Those questions were the most daunting. As the days passed and they worked more cases together, it seemed natural for Woody to keep his hand at the small of her back at crime scenes. It seemed just as natural for him to find himself gazing at her at off moments, when she wasn't aware of his stare. And when she did catch his eyes, the atmosphere would nearly spark with electricity. The physical attraction was still there. But would their hearts engage? Would emotions go to that place where their bodies seemed more than willing to venture?

And neither he nor Jordan was willing to go there until they both were sure about their hearts. They knew what they both had felt in the past, but was there enough of that left to resurrect it and bring it to the present? Or even push it into the future?

So in some ways, the dance began again. Only this time neither was allowing another partner to cut in…at least until they had played out all their quarters in the jukebox.

But one particular quarter, once inserted, played an all-too-familiar and tearful song.

There was a bank robbery. A hostage taken. Woody was on the scene. As the hours passed and the event played out, he knew that Jordan was very much aware of what was going on. He was even more aware that it was probably taking both Garret's and Nigel's persistence to keep her away from the bank. Then the robber made a run for it. Leaving through a back exit at the bank, the guy began sprinting for a patch of trees behind the building when the Boston PD fired shots.

The man fired back….with deadly aim. One of the bullets hit Woody in the chest. The force made him hit the ground with a thud.

Thank God it wasn't armor piercing bullets this time. Thank God for Kevlar. And thank God another police officer was able to bring the man down before anyone else got hurt.

Woody had just stood up when out of nowhere, there she was. Slightly bemused at the way she pushed the paramedics away, he was even more amused by the way Jordan struggled to get his Kevlar vest off. "Hey…hold on," he told her. "I'm fine…"

"I have to see," she replied, her voice cracking just a little. "I have to see…." With one final tug the vest had come off and without hesitation, she had unbuttoned Woody's shirt nearly to the waist. "Oh…"

He saw her tears before they hit her cheeks. While he was fine, the impact of the bullet had left a nasty red whelp on his chest, right above his scar. In time, Woody knew the whelp would turn into a bruise, but right now, Jordan's fingers were tracing the scar and lightly running over the new injury. "It's okay," he said, gently putting a hand on each of her arms. "I'm fine…"

But just as Sarah's baby had churned up all the emotions over Joanna and Jordan for Woody, this encounter with a bullet had brought Jordan back to the day she had been sure she had lost him – perhaps both physically and emotionally. "I'm fine…" he repeated, a little firmer and with a slight shake to her shoulders.

"I know…it's just…oh damn….hold me. Please. Please…just hold me and don't tell me to leave."

She didn't have to ask twice. Woody pulled her to him and held her for long minutes, just letting her cry it out. When he felt she had herself back under control, he gently lifted her face and brushed back her hair. "I'm fine…I didn't get shot…everything's okay…" he told her softly, reassuring her one more time.

"Yeah. Okay. I guess I should let you get back to…" she gestured to the scene. "I just heard over the scanner in the office…and I had to … and ….Are you sure you're okay?"

To anyone else, it would have seemed like rambling. To Woody, she had just made perfect sense.

He nodded and moved her away long enough to button his shirt back up. "I'm fine…honest."

"That's gonna bruise…."

"I know….I know." He looked deep in her eyes with his last statement, hoping to convey that he knew her reaction to the shooting was out of more than just simple concern.

"You do?" She had caught his innuendo. He could read it in her eyes.

"I do."

So when she showed up at his apartment late that night, it didn't surprise him either. He kind of expected she would drop in and check on him. "Where's Joanna?" he asked after letting her in and taking her coat.

"Lily's and Bug's. I came to check…"

"It's fine. I'm fine." Barefoot and in blue jeans he walked over and stood in front of her, unbuttoning his shirt so she could inspect his chest.

Tentative fingers reached not for the now bruising whelp, but for the scar that Riggs' bullet had inflicted on him…and them. Before this afternoon, she hadn't seen it since that night at the Lucy Carver Inn. The scar had been more pronounced then…an angry, raised, red area. The years had faded it to a fainter, silvery line. Woody heard his own breath hiss when her fingers slid across his skin.

The noise brought her eyes up to his…now a deep blue. A blue she found herself losing herself in.

And didn't care if she ever found her way out. When his lips sought hers Jordan heard herself moan with pleasure and release…release of worry … that not only was Woody just fine, but so were they. It was time to quit wondering about the if's and the how's.

It was time to just let things happen.

So when his hands played with the hem of her shirt, she willing raised her arms to let him take it off. She pushed his shirt off his shoulders in return, and guided his hands to the front clasp on her bra. Woody pulled back and gazed in her eyes for a moment before releasing the lacy garment.

She moaned again when her nipples hit the smooth heat of his chest.

Perhaps they should talk…get more out in the open before taking this next step, but deep down, Woody knew there were no more words left…at least for right now. Words…promises…explanations would all come later. Before either one could second guess this first choice, he lifted her up and felt her legs wrap around his waist as he carried her to the bedroom.

Shoes and jeans followed the discarded shirts…until Jordan was down to only a black thong that hid little and he was down to his boxers. Woody moaned in approval this time as her hands found their way inside the waist of his underwear and she gently stroked him. "Jordan," he whispered between kisses.

She stopped and stilled. "I was so scared today, Woody. Scared I had lost you again. That even if the bullet didn't hit you, you'd still push me away again."

"No….that was the past. And I was a fool. I think I've wised up since then." He traced her lower lip with his thumb. "I never want you out of my life again. Ever. I want you here…with me…always."

"No matter what, we always end up together, don't we?" She smiled at him through a glaze of happy tears.

"Because neither of us will settle for second best. We're stubborn, you know."

Jordan nodded and found his mouth again as her hands pushed his boxers the rest of the way down, catching them with her foot and pushing them completely off his legs.

He returned the favor, letting his hand stroke slow and easy trails from her knee to her thigh, finding her center and stroking it until he felt her buck beneath him.

Then feeling her body bow into a curve when he took the peak of one breast in his mouth and began to suckle.

Jordan felt the first wave of pleasure take her, leaving her trembling against him. Blindly, she pulled his head up, seeking his lips as her hands guided him into her. Sighing with relief when he found her and began to move.

There had been no words spoken as they matched each other stroke for stroke, aiming to please each other. No words…just emotions. It wasn't until Jordan felt her orgasm building that his name came out on a throaty whisper.

The simple sound of his name on her lips drove them both over the edge.

And that had been a year ago.

Now Woody glanced out to make sure Joanna was okay. She was playing at the shoreline, at the place where the little waves meet the sand. Satisfied that the six year-old child was occupied and safe for the moment, Woody turned his attention toward Jordan, who was almost asleep. They were taking a last minute vacation before school started back. One last chance to loll in the sun and laze during the day before the "real" work started, or so Jordan said. According to her, working mothers and dealing with school-aged kids was more than a handful.

Woody had been urging her to go to part time. It wasn't like they couldn't afford for her to do that. But the glint of the diamond ring on her left hand brought him back to more pressing matters. "A date?" he prompted out of the blue.

"We go on dates all the time," she teased from behind her sunglasses.

"No…a date for the wedding. Are you ready to set one yet?"

"Can't we just go to Vegas?"

"No." Woody had no desire to see Danny McCoy again. "Besides, your daughter would never forgive us. We promised her she'd be the flower girl."

"She'd get over it. She gets over most things." Jordan took her glasses off and eyed him warily. "What's the rush? I was thinking maybe next spring…"

"Valentines."

"I can't plan a wedding by then…"

"Get Lily to help you. Something simple."

"Simple…sounds good."

"Soon sounds even better. That way we can all be settled in the new house by Easter…"

_Settled in_…The words that once would have caused Jordan Cavanaugh to run, now caused her heart to beat a little faster. Second best had never been good enough for either she or Woody. Now _settled in_ seemed just perfect.


End file.
